


The calm of morning

by sciencebluefeelings



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bondage, Bonding, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape Roleplay, Sex Work, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencebluefeelings/pseuds/sciencebluefeelings
Summary: Captain Kirk was declared missing months ago, and the crew of theEnterprisefinally finds him kneeling at the end of the leash of a slave trader. Jim refuses to tell anyone what happened, but the trauma his body sustained relays the story well enough. Commander Spock and Doctor McCoy are at a complete loss at what to do.Then Commander Spock remembers his elder counterpart.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock Prime, Number One/Christopher Pike
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	The calm of morning

Jim remembers fire when he materialized in the transporter room, carried in Commander Spock's arms.

Later he learns there was nothing even remotely resembling an open flame, but Jim remembers scorching heat burning over his naked skin. It couldn't have been from Spock's body. Vulcan bodies run cooler than a human's.

Then again, the commander had been very, very angry.

There had been a dissonant roar in the background as Commander Spock gave rapid orders with Jim still in his arms. His voice sounded distant.

Jim tried to hold onto consciousness as he was laid on a gurney, but the commander put his fingers to Jim's meld points, and Jim blacked out immediately.

Jim wakes up in a private room of the medical bay. He avoids eye contact with Bones, who speaks quietly without his usual dramatic fussing. The medical examinations reveal sleep deprivation, malnutrition. And the other things. Jim doesn't want to hear any of it.

"We took out the piercings, but the scarring won't heal no matter what we try. As long as you take the necessary medications, the STDs should be eliminated in two weeks, but you need to let me know right away if you're experiencing any of the written side effects." Jim finally gives in to curiosity and looks up to see an unfamiliar, grim expression on his best friend's face.

There's still a twinge of pain in the skin of Jim's back. "The tattoo?" Jim asks in a small voice, hating how vulnerable he sounds. Bones just shakes his head. Jim's stomach plummets. "Fuck."

"Jim," Bones says.

"Shut up." Jim squeezes his eyes shut. "I want to be alone right now."

Bones doesn't push back. He quietly checks Jim's vitals one last time before exiting the room.

Jim slips out of the medical bay before he has been given permission to leave. He locks himself in his private quarters and strips of all his clothing. He stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

The bruises and bites are gone. There are small divets in his nipples and the head of his cock from the removed piercings. His body parts feel strange from the absence of cold, decorative metal. Jim twists to look at his back in the mirror. He tries to feel the tattoo scars, but the only clue of their existence is the faint black lines that couldn't be removed. The tattoo relays information about his species and erogenous zones, his healing factor and the names of the traders that had sold him back and forth. Bones is calling the scars cyber burn. He thinks the injuries may have worked directly into Jim's DNA.

Not bothering to put the clothing back on, Jim turns off all the lights and gets into his bed, pulling the covers over his head. With the bottle of lube still under his pillow, he slicks his hand and bites his lip as he begins to stroke himself.

It had started as a routine exploration, with Jim beaming down to the surface with a small landing party. It ended with a careless maneuver and Jim caught in a gateway to some dimensional vortex. He was immediately captured by soldiers that identified him as an unregistered individual of that galaxy and took him away for further questioning.

If Jim had known what was coming next, he would've fought a lot harder to escape back through the gateway.

Jim squeezes his eyes shut, still frantically stroking himself. The callused stimulation finally brings him to orgasm and Jim is able to fall asleep.

A month passes. Jim has been cleared for duty. He's done his part, talked to the ship therapist, smiled that fake smile. Bones couldn't see any reason to prevent Jim from working any longer.

Of course, Bones' instinct proves stronger than Jim's own doggedness. A mission goes to disaster, sending Jim into a fit of panic. Jim thinks the urgency was justified - the inhabitants of that planet were so close to taking Chekov away. _So_ close. The kid's barely eighteen, Jim's met his moms. How could Jim go back to them saying he had let their son be abducted for some fucked up sex ritual?

The panic had led to a messy save. Thankfully no one had been hurt, but Jim had looked up in the aftermath to see his entire crew staring at him. It had been utterly humiliating. Bones declared him emotionally compromised and unfit for duty.

Jim sits in his quarters, waiting for Commander Spock to come talk to him. Spock had requested a meeting a few hours ago, but still hasn't shown up. The commander and Bones are probably talking to each other right now. Jim knows they're worried about him, but all he can feel is resentment.

The intercom rings, startling Jim. He schools his expression and gets up to let Commander Spock in.

The doors slide closed behind the commander and he says, "My older counterpart has offered for you to share his residence while you are in recovery. Do you accept this offer?"

Jim's stomach does something unpleasant when he hears the mention of the old Vulcan. "You told the ambassador. Without my permission."

"Doctor McCoy and I feel the change in environment would be effective for your recovery." Commander Spock doesn't meet his eyes. Everything in Jim wants to fight, to rebel. But the commander doesn't deserve that. Besides, Ambassador Spock certainly isn't the worst person Jim could be stuck with.

Jim deflates. "You know what, yeah. I accept his offer. Please let him know. Thank you, Commander."

Commander Spock looks even more wary from Jim's easy acceptance. "We will reach Romulus in two days. Please be prepared to disembark at that time." He looks back at Jim a final time as he exits the room, and Jim sighs.

The ambassador is waiting for Jim at the starport. "You are early," he says as Jim approaches.

Jim knows he's staring at the old Vulcan's smile, but he can't help himself. It's soft and full of lovely warmth. He sternly reminds himself that the ambassador's smile isn't meant for him. The ambassador is thinking of someone else. Someone Jim had seen in the brief mind meld on Delta Vega, a version of Jim that was better in more ways than he cared to count.

As they exit the parking garage to the main road in the ambassador's hovercar, Jim watches the port recede into the distance and he can't help voicing his deep fear. "What if I can never go back?"

Ambassador Spock doesn't look at him, but his tone is reassuring. "I have full faith you will reinstate full authority of the _Enterprise_ as the finest captain of Starfleet."

It's such a strange and familiar faith, a faith that the ambassador had shown Jim on Delta Vega. Jim chokes up a little. "You sound so confident."

"I am, old friend."

The house they arrive at looks pleasantly cozy. Spock shuts off the engine and speaks again. "Let me know what you desire, Jim. There is very little I would not do for you."

Jim opens the door and exits the car. "That's a dangerous thing to say, Ambassador."

"I trust you," the ambassador says simply.

He shouldn't. Jim wants to tell the ambassador just as much, but he remains silent and follows him inside the house. The temperature is surprisingly normal - Jim knows how hot Commander Spock keeps his quarters. It already smells like spices, and Jim’s stomach growls.

Spock gives Jim a quick house tour that ends in the kitchen. "Sit here, Jim." He goes to the stove to turn it on.

Jim sits. Once the food has been reheated, the ambassador serves him before sitting on the other side of the table with his own small portion of food. Jim tastes the rich but clear soup. It's got a hint of spice and the consistency is somehow unfamiliar enough that Jim's senses don't instinctively recoil from it. He is surprised he manages to finish his bowl.

Ambassador Spock stands to take Jim's bowl, and Jim gets up quicker. "I can do it," he says before taking their bowls and utensils to the cycler.

"Thank you, Jim." Ambassador Spock goes to the refrigerator and takes another bowl out. "In my reality, you had a preference for fresh fruits whenever you were particularly upset. I have prepared this in advance for you."

Jim looks with wide eyes at the carefully prepared bowl of cut fruit now sitting on the table. The ambassador is still talking. "You may not have tried this Vulcan fruit before. It is a hardy crop and plentiful, harvested at this time of year."

Jim looks up helplessly. "Ambassador."

The ambassador waits patiently.

"Ambassador, I -" Jim doesn't finish. He doesn't know what to say.

“Yes, Jim? What is on your mind?”

Jim knows Vulcans are proximity telepaths. Couldn't the ambassador just read his mind if he's so curious?

The ambassador takes a step closer. "Tell me what you desire. As I have stated before, I'll do anything for you."

Jim is still. The ambassador drops his gaze. "Rest, Jim. I have already shown you to the guest quarters. I shall be in my study before I sleep." He puts the fruit back in the fridge and turns to leave.

Jim grabs Ambassador Spock's wrist with a little too much pressure. His voice drops. "You’ll do anything? Even tie me to the bedframe and fuck me until I'm begging for you to stop?"

The ambassador's expression flickers. Jim is about to sheepishly retract his request and apologize when Ambassador Spock twists his hand to grip Jim’s. "Is that what you desire?"

Jim's heart rate spikes. The ambassador's eyes are dark, inscrutable. Jim feels his heart begin to pound in his chest from anticipation. "Yes."

The ambassador loosens his grip on Jim and gives him a gentle tug. Jim follows his lead, out of the kitchen, down the hallway and up the shallow flight of stairs to the ambassador's bedroom. The ambassador guides Jim to sit on the bed and sits far enough away from him so their legs are not touching. Jim blinks at the sight of the ambassador blushing slightly. "Jim, if it is merely an exchange of intimacy that you desire, I can offer to fulfill that instead?"

Jim resists the urge to shudder. "No, thank you, definitely not."

"I encourage you to consider before making a decision. It is of no inconvenience to me. I promise."

Doing such a thing would mean Spock would have to act affectionate, take extra care over these already difficult obligations Spock is already endeavoring to achieve for him. Jim says firmly, "No, I don't want to."

Ambassador Spock nods. "To quicken the process, I would recommend that we meld so that you will be able to detail the scene you want."

 _Meld?_ Share their minds and show the ambassador all of Jim's fears and internal thoughts?

The ambassador speaks quickly again. "I will not see anything you do not actively push towards me. I have a great degree of mental control and any wayward thoughts will not be read."

Jim's breath shudders. It scares him, how much he is willing to trust this old Vulcan. "Yeah, okay. Sure."

Those nimble fingers slip to Jim's meld points, and Jim's heart pounds as Ambassador Spock carefully enters Jim's mind, and Jim squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the ambassador to backtrack and gently reject him.

The ambassador drops his hand. "All of this? Tonight?" There is no judgement in his voice or eyes.

Jim swallows "Yes. All of it."

The ambassador sits a little taller. "I will perform what you have requested in our meld. You will be fully conscious and capable of stopping me at any time for any reason."

"Yes," Jim agrees.

"We require a safe word."

Jim thinks for a moment. " _Enterprise_."

"Very well." Ambassador Spock stands and stretches slightly. "My request in this exchange is that we both shower before copulation."

Jim can't help shaking his head with a small grin. "Can't say fuck, old man?"

A deep blush blooms across the ambassador's face. "You may use the guest quarters if you do not wish to wait for me. I will shower now." He disappears into the bathroom.

Jim watches him leave and he can't help wondering, is this because Ambassador Spock somehow knows? That while Jim had been held in captivity, he had been forced to service patrons regardless of the environment or their hygiene? There had been endless penises and holes and folds, often rank and caked with filth. Jim had always been left at the end of the day covered in unidentifiable fluids, bitter with a foul odor, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Jim finds his way to the guest bedroom and uses the sonic shower setting. His skin feels tingly and warm, and as Jim exits the shower he looks in surprise at the bathrobe hung on the back of the bathroom door. He had not seen it before. It’s plush and lightly fragrant. For a moment Jim forgets to wear it because he’s hugging it to his chest, burying his face into the comforting fabric.

Jim slips into the bathrobe and makes his way up to the bedroom once more. He tries hard not to focus on the cuffs and equipment now on the other side of the bed. The ambassador stands in the middle of the room wearing an unassuming top and black trousers, and he watches Jim slowly remove his warm robe and set it aside. His eyes are drawn to Jim's chest before focusing on his face. _The piercing holes._ Jim flushes hot but refuses to look away.

"Shall we start now, Jim?"

"Not Jim," Jim says quickly.

The ambassador's gaze doesn't change. "You would prefer I utilize a different name?"

"I used James," Jim says, swallowing hard. God, he never liked that name and now he's never hated something more. "That's what I told the traders."

The ambassador nods slowly. "James." Jim feels the hairs raising on every inch of his body. He sternly reminds himself it's a scene, he's not there, he's in the ambassador's house.

The ambassador grabs Jim's wrist and pulls him forward with surprising strength. "Remind me of your purpose, James."

Jim tries to shake off the ambassador's hand, but he doesn't let go. The ambassador's voice is too calm. "Submit. Resistance will only bring additional unnecessary pain upon your body."

Like he had done in the image of the meld, Jim lunges for the ambassador's throat.

He restrains himself now, not wanting to hurt the old Vulcan, but the ambassador's reciprocating actions are brutal. The ambassador counters Jim's outlash with ease and shoves him down onto the bed. Jim desperately tries to squirm free, and the ambassador lands an accurate and humiliating slap across his cheek. The pain throbs. "Know your place, James."

Only momentarily stunned, Jim recovers and keeps fighting against the ambassador's grip. The adrenaline spikes when Jim realizes that Spock is overpowering him without even needing to tie him up.

Spock nudges apart Jim's thighs with a knee. "James," he warns. "You cannot win."

"Fuck off and die." Jim musters his strength and manages to shove aside the ambassador. He tries to roll away, but there is a flurry of movement and Jim finds one of his wrists bound to the bedpost. Jim tests the cuff. It is sturdy but surprisingly soft.

The ambassador finishes securing Jim's other hand and ankles, then watches for a moment as Jim struggles, spread-eagled to his gaze. Spock pinches one of Jim's nipples hard before he begins stroking Jim's cock. Jim twitches from the stimulation. "Ambassador, what are you doing?"

The ambassador is moving to remove his pants, still stroking Jim's hardening length. "You will penetrate me."

Jim's pulse skyrockets. "I can’t do that."

"You will do whatever pleases me."

Jim yanks at the restraints, his words stumbling. "No, no. I can’t."

"James."

 _Enterprise. Enterprise_. "That wasn’t what I showed you through the meld," Jim tries.

The ambassador pauses. He lets go of Jim to sit up closer to his side where he is within view. His gaze is averted and he’s blushing. "Jim, I will require the assistance of a phallic object - I find myself unable to achieve an erection at this moment."

Jim hesitates. "Can I see it?"

"Yes. I will bring it." The ambassador strokes down Jim's stomach and leaves. Jim listens to him moving around in the bathroom.

The ambassador returns and shows Jim the plain black dildo. Jim lets his head fall back against the pillow. "That's fine. Thank you for asking first." His body is already tensing up, anticipating the intrusion.

He feels something against his entrance, teasing the skin there slightly. A rough noise escapes Jim's mouth as he tries to move away. He had seen the dildo with his own eyes, but it feels impossibly large as the tip penetrates him. He can't bear down. Jim curses and bucks, but the dildo stays inside him, pushing even deeper.

"Wait, wait -" The dildo doesn't stop moving, and Jim thrashes from the pain. "Stop - I can't. _I can't._ " As Jim pleads more frantically, Spock's face hovers above his with impassive eyes. The object thrusting inside Jim doesn't stop. If anything, it pushes more insistently.

"Stop, please!" Something's definitely broken inside him. It's a feeling Jim has learned to recognize. The angle of the thrusts changes and Jim’s throat is raw as he cries out from a fresh wave of pain. The agony is indistinguishable with pleasure. The sensations refuse to end.

Someone is saying something. "Jim?"

Jim fights the haze. "Yes, Spock," he slurs.

"If you want to proceed, please say yes."

"Yes, please keep going, Spock. Thank you." With the dildo still inside him, Jim feels his limbs rearranged. His arms are freed but still inside the cuffs. Now they're crossed above his head, tied up so that he's kneeling, his body stretched to his limit. There's something pressed to his perineum.

Spock bites Jim's chest around one nipple before slipping out of view behind him. Jim only has a moment of reprieve before the thing against his perineum vibrates abruptly.

" _Fuck!_ " Jim realizes Spock has belted a vibrator to his thigh. He tries to move, to lessen the potency of the vibration, but Jim can't escape, can't lessen the sensation of the vibrator torturing his sensitive skin. He feels himself sobbing.

Jim hears Spock's voice in his ear behind him, his breath on Jim's nape. "You might deny it, but secretly you've always wanted this."

Jim shakes his head. "No."

Spock bites Jim's shoulder hard. "I can see it on your face."

" _No,_ " Jim repeats. With the last of his strength he tries to move his body, but he can't move. Eventually Jim stops trying to resist. His body is completely spent, but the vibrator doesn't stop. Jim feels the dildo continue to slide in and out of him, catching at the rim of his entrance each time.

Spock's voice is unmoved. "It was not so difficult to submit, was it? Your entrance receives me very well."

Everything is becoming distant. Jim feels like he's been submerged. He aches so badly, but at the same time the pain registers as nonexistent in his brain.

He could still use the safe word, the one he and the ambassador had agreed on. He could say it right now. He has the ability to stop the pain. But does he even deserve to use it? Is he in enough pain to warrant the use of the word?

"Jim!"

Jim blinks his eyes open and focuses on the face in front of him. The cold gaze is gone, replaced with a blank stare. Jim realizes he's been unchained. The vibrator is gone and Spock is cradling him in his lap. Spock's voice is faint, but Jim doesn't know if it's because of Spock’s voice or his own hearing. "You were never going to use the safeword. You were planning to never say it."

A chill penetrates Jim's chest. "Spock," Jim begs.

"This is not a scene anymore. We must stop."

"No! I'll be good, please." Jim's tongue feels clumsy in his mouth. "I'm sorry - for disappointing you. Please, don't."

Spock shakes his head and begins fisting Jim's cock, and instantly Jim comes for what feels like the longest time. Spock holds him through his climax. The orgasm finally recedes and Jim is so, so tired, tired to his very bones. He might even be able to fall asleep without any nightmares.

There’s something cool brushing over his body. "What's going on," Jim manages to say.

"Let me take care of you, _k'diwa_." The coolness passes over his skin again, and Jim recognizes the faint hum as a dermal regenerator. Jim sighs as the pain dissipates like mist. The ambassador turns Jim over and kisses along Jim's spine where those dreadful words of ownership will remain until the day he dies. The pain inside of Jim vanishes. "You were so good for me, Jim. You were perfect." Jim feels the tears welling up in his throat. The ambassador's voice is soft and fond, so gentle.

There's a warm, slightly damp cloth against Jim's skin, thorough and diligent in its movements. The trail it leaves is followed by soothing hands that leave lingering caresses. Jim realizes Spock had already known what he wanted all along. _This_ is what he had wanted. He just wanted someone to comfort him after he had endured, to run a hand through his hair and show him he was loved. He just felt he didn’t deserve it.

Jim listens to Spock go back into the bathroom. He returns some while later, and Jim feels another kiss to the back of his neck. A weight settles next to him. "You may return to your quarters now, Jim. Get some rest."

Jim nods and wearily tries to sit up, but his limbs are still like jelly. Even with two occupants, the ambassador's bed is large and so much nicer than Jim's own empty bed on the ship. Jim braces himself and asks, "Ambassador? I was wondering if I could spend tonight here - with you."

The ambassador is unresponsive. Jim frowns and twists his neck to look up at the old Vulcan's. "Ambassador? Are you alright?"

The ambassador seems to be shaken out of a trance. He looks at Jim with wide eyes. "I apologize, Jim, could you repeat that?"

"May we sleep together?"

"Oh." Spock looks at his hands. "Of course, Jim."

Jim frowns but doesn’t comment on it. As Spock eases to lie down, Jim tucks behind him, wrapping an arm around Spock's body. Even with his stiff posture, Spock is soft to the touch. His sleep robe is smooth and light-colored, blending with the color of the sheets.

Spock still doesn't move. "This gesture is unnecessary, my dear."

"I want to." Jim hugs tighter, nuzzling his nape. No more words are exchanged after that. Jim slowly slips into pitch black nothingness.

Jim dreams. He dreams of the ambassador.

The ambassador had not been expecting his counterpart to contact him, or for the bright young captain to pierce through the middle of his dense grey haze.

Freely flowing emotion spills in his wake. Spock feels a thrill of trust at what the young captain has given to him. He does not take the opportunity lightly. It is unclear if the captain is mentally capable of this level of strain, but Spock ignores the warning signs. He is also so lonely and desperate to be vulnerable. It will be his downfall.

Jim sees his own body, sprawled and still tied to the bed frame. The visual of Jim whimpers in a raw voice, his limbs slack and covered in bruises. The abused hole of his entrance trickles blood down his thigh.

The negative emotion Spock had been holding back overwhelms his senses. This was a mistake. Spock had sensed many times when the young captain had surpassed his limit and refused to stop Spock. Spock should have restrained himself, he should have known to stop even when Jim never said anything, but he didn't. How dare he feel pleasure seeing what he had done to the young captain, with his own cruel hands and teeth? Why would the young captain wish to stay and sleep with the person that had hurt him?

It does not matter, it will be fine. Spock will receive the due consequences for his actions. When Jim has regained his confidence, Spock will resume his plans. He will acquire a personal spacecraft. He will set a one-way course for the center of the Romulus sun. His atoms will unite with the plasma of the brilliant star, and he will finally be gone from this universe that he was never a part of to begin with.

And then Jim realizes he's dreaming. He wakes in an instant. It's still dark out.

Jim frantically shakes the ambassador's shoulder. The ambassador startles awake and his disoriented eyes focus on Jim. They see the expression on Jim's face and widen imperceptibly. "You saw."

Jim is so upset and scared that he can't speak properly. "I'm not going anywhere until I know you're not gonna leave us on a suicide runaway trip when this is all over. How long have you been planning this?"

The ambassador doesn't respond.

"Answer me!" Jim demands, his voice echoing off the walls of the room.

Spock flinches away, but there is a renewed fury in his eyes. "I have been planning this ever since I witnessed the consequences of my actions," he hisses. "Can you blame me, Jim Kirk? There is no place for me in this reality I have created through my acts of destruction."

"I can't blame you for thinking it, but there's no way in hell I can sit by and ignore what I saw." Jim is unmoved. "I'm not leaving until you can assure me you won't kill yourself the moment I turn my back."

"That is not possible. You are a Starfleet captain, you cannot neglect your responsibilities for the sake of one person. You will have to depart eventually."

"Try me, fucking old man. Everyone knows my captaincy was obtained through invalid means. At least half of the Federation would be happy to see me go."

Spock raises his hands, helpless. "I cannot lie to you and say that I will be alright."

"Then I won't leave until you can."

Spock glares. "Then I believe we are at an impasse."

Jim stares back. "It would appear so." They both fall silent, not breaking eye contact.

Jim exhales and dares let his fingers creep up Spock's chest to stroke his cheek. "Spock, you've taken care of me, and you've become involved in my trauma as much as I have in yours. I couldn't just leave without taking care of you as well."

Spock blinks rapidly before turning away. "I advise you to leave temporarily."

"Why?"

"You have never enjoyed seeing me cry," Spock whispers.

"Spock." Jim moves closer as Spock attempts to push him away. Jim knows how strong that body is. Spock is more than capable of stopping him. "That's him, not me. And right now? I couldn't fucking care less. So you'll have to tell me to go if that's what you want."

Spock shakes his head aggressively. Jim pulls Spock flush to his body and kisses his forehead. "We used each other to punish ourselves. We're not letting that happen ever again."

"Yes." Spock rests against Jim. "Yes. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Spock." Jim eases Spock back onto the bed. Spock keeps trying to turn his head away, but Jim follows with his lips, kissing away every decadent tear on his skin. Jim entwines his fingers with Spock's and sucks at his collarbone.

The mark he leaves is light, and Jim kisses it before releasing his grip to trail his hands all over Spock's prone body. He's responsive, gorgeous as he arches under Jim's touch. Jim runs his hands back up the length of Spock's body before lying down to curl up next to him.

Spock's voice is rough. "I had never let myself hope to have this."

"Have what?"

Spock turns his face into the pillow. "Simply someone to touch me as I grieved for all that I have lost." Spock goes still for a moment. "The Doctor McCoy of my reality was the last to pass on. After he died, I was left all alone."

Jim tries to imagine it, watching his friends disappear one by one - Scotty, Chekov, Uhura and Hikaru. Commander Spock and Jim's own dear Doctor McCoy. Spock had already lost so much, but then he had traveled to this reality and saw not only his people destroyed, but also a fresh reminder of all he had lost.

Jim kisses the back of Spock's neck. "You're not alone anymore, Spock. I promise."

The old Vulcan in Jim's arms cries himself to sleep. Jim watches his slack face until the morning light creeps through the windows.

Spock puts down the electric kettle and tastes his tea. "I have my reasons to refuse a therapist, Jim."

"Explain, then." Jim watches Spock sit across from him at the kitchen table, gripping his own mug.

Spock looks up at Jim. "My unique circumstances are largely classified, and I would not be permitted to disclose a majority of the events that trouble me. Furthermore, I have found little success speaking to trained professionals about what I am undergoing."

Jim toys with his mug handle. "I guess that would be discouraging."

"Yes. It is." They finish their tea slowly. Neither say anything about breakfast. Jim is belatedly feeling the effects of last night, and despite his physical wounds being fully healed, his body feels sluggish and uncomfortable. Spock seems to notice immediately, because he strokes Jim's cheek with tender fingers before smoothing a hand through his hair.

Jim relaxes into the touch with eyes closed. "What do you think you'll do today, Spock?"

"It would be preferable to meditate, but it is highly likely that I will be unable to do so at this time."

"Makes sense. A nap doesn't sound too bad."

"We have just woken up," Spock says, amused. He makes his way to the living room in front of the vidscreen, sitting on the couch. "Jim, would you like to join me here?"

That's how Jim ends up joining Spock on the couch, curled up together watching Romulan television. Jim has no clue what's going on, but he doesn't really care.

Jim feels the cool skin of Spock's exposed arms. "You cold?"

Spock nods once. Jim eases himself to his feet to retrieve a blanket large enough to cover them both. Spock curls into Jim as Jim strokes his back.

There's a new show playing onscreen now. It appears to be some sort of debate program. Spock is looking at something in his comm. "Jim, may I have access to your surface entry background files?"

"The low level ones for like, job screenings? Yeah, sure. Why?"

Spock sets aside his comm to lean on Jim again. "Did you know Admiral Pike and Una have been residing here on Romulus?"

"I had no idea. They know who you are?"

"Yes, we are all acquainted with each other. We have received an invitation from Admiral Pike and Una. The establishment we will visit together requires a background check."

Jim is suddenly wary. Spock quickly explains, "They do not know anything about your situation as far as I am aware. I was the one who requested they permit us access for entry."

"Oh, okay. That's alright, then."

Spock nods. "There will be a dress code. Choose your outfit accordingly, please."

"Sure." A date? Spock is asking him out on a date. Gods. Jim can't remember the last time he dressed fancy and went out with someone. It'll be an interesting experience.

That night, Jim gets ready for the outing in the guest quarters. He figures a nice top and slacks will be enough. He waits at the door for Spock, who is taking his time to come down.

Jim is flabbergasted to see Spock walk down the stairs in a collared shirt and dress pants. He looks immaculate.

A blush touches Spock's cheeks. "Jim, you're staring."

Jim doesn't move. "I wasn't expecting human fashion."

Spock smiles and takes the keys to the hovercar. He stops at the door and faces Jim. "Jim, have you ever been to a brothel before?"

"A brothel?" _I mean, I lived in one for the last two months and was subjected to every horror imaginable within_.

Jim shakes his head. He'd had his fair share of one night stands, but they usually involved strangers at bars or classmates in the Academy. "I haven't been to one in this reality."

"Do you have any identification with you?"

"Uh, yeah. Got my ID in my wallet."

Spock turns back to open the door. "Good. Let's depart."

The building they enter is modestly sized, with an elaborate entrance. The entryway is carefully decorated and Jim finds himself admiring the detail. Pike and Number One are waiting at the receptionist desk, and they generously greet Spock and Jim. Jim hasn't seen either of them for a long time. It's a strange place to reunite. Jim cautiously salutes, and is relieved that they engage in a normal conversation with him, asking him about the _Enterprise_ and his crew.

Pike turns to the receptionist. "They're both Class 1 tonight. Just watching the show."

The receptionist asks for identification. Spock and Jim provide the necessary cards, and after a length of scrutiny they are all permitted to enter.

Spock and Jim follow Number One as she pushes Pike's wheelchair. Pike gestures down another hallway. "Those are for the private rooms. But that's for Class 3 and above, we won't be going there tonight."

The four of them proceed to a large room with several small dining tables that are already occupied. The stage on the other side is empty except for a single chair. The music and lights are already energetic. Pike grins at them. "Shall we?"

A waiter guides them to the tables and provides them the drinks menu. Jim is more interested in looking around the room and the beautiful lighting. Pike seems to have noticed Jim's acute curiosity about the brothel. "It's a very careful establishment, like all other brothels in the Federation. They're cautious about the people that they allow entry to, and one of the requirements to enter is a referral from one of the workers or trusted customers."

The crowd closer to the stage starts getting a little rowdier, and Jim finds himself tensing. He realizes there's someone at the edge of the stage with two people in uniform. She stands, nervous but expectant as she holds her arm out to one of the gloved workers. The other worker is holding a medicorder.

Pike gestures at them. "The customers need to undergo a blood test and medicorder check before interacting with any workers. Standard protocol."

Their drinks arrive. The others have ordered the house special, but Jim sips at his ice water. Pike becomes distracted by a conversation with Number One about the new policy implemented for Starfleet senior staff. Spock inches closer to Jim as the customer is guided onstage to sit in the chair. The lights and music change, and the crowd cheers as the stripper strides onstage with a showy presence. Her body is beautifully shaped, unmarred and healthy. She has a bright smile on her face and she winks at the people in the front row before focusing all her attention on the wide-eyed customer sitting in the chair.

The rowdy party of people stays within their boundaries. They're not distractingly noisy, they don't harass or move closer to the stage as the stripper slowly dances to the music and removes her bra. She gets on her knees and pushes up the hem of the customer's dress, nuzzling her face between her legs.

Spock's voice is low in Jim's ear. "Not only are all their clients screened before their appointments, there is zero tolerance for any coercion or violence. Erotic practices or role-playing involving bondage, discipline, dominance and submission are monitored the most closely."

The customer is still blushing prettily as the stripper eats her out, but as time passes her shy expressions become less reserved. The customer beams when the stripper rises and presses a kiss to her cheek. They seem engaged in conversation before the customer adjusts her dress and the stripper moves to dance in her lap.

Jim doesn't realize he had been gripping Spock's hand until Spock uses it to pull him close and speak in his ear. "The sex workers choose their occupation out of their own free will. They know they are safe, and they enjoy the work and being paid for sexual activity. This is your reality, Jim Kirk."

"It is." Despite the ambiance and music, Jim feels a strange silence inside of him. The fear and anxiety has been replaced with a quiet void. Jim never again has to worry he will be dragged away, beaten and used. Spock seems to sense it, because Jim feels a pulse of satisfaction between them through their fingers. The show concludes and after the stripper exits the stage the customer goes back to her friends, and they all talk and giggle excitedly.

The four of them are quiet as they exit. Pike pats Spock's sleeve. "Why don't you go first, Ambassador. We'd like to have a chat with Jim before we leave." Spock moves protectively towards Jim, and Pike huffs out a laugh. "Nothing serious, Mr. Spock. I promise."

Jim smiles at Spock despite the newfound anxiety brewing in his stomach. "I'll catch up with you soon, alright?"

Spock gives them one last wary glance before going out to the parking lot. Pike grins at Jim. "No need to look like that, Mr. Kirk. We're just curious."

"We've been trying to get Spock to go out with us for the longest time," Number One adds. She scrutinizes Jim. "How did you do it?"

Jim looks from Pike's watchful gaze to Number One's. Something in his brain clicks. "Are you giving me shovel talk?" he asks, incredulous.

Pike laughs. "Only if we need to. He's a good man, but lonely. We're worried about him."

Jim dips his chin. "I'm worried about him too, but we're not in a relationship."

"I see." Pike sighs and looks up at Number One. "Let's get going, Una. Jim, goodnight."

They part ways and Jim gets into Spock's car, not making eye contact with that focused stare. "What did they speak to you about?" Spock asks.

Jim finally looks over at Spock. His eyes are dark and vulnerable.

"Let's go home," Jim says.

Spock hesitates. "Home, you say?" Jim is also slightly caught off guard. He replays his words in his mind. He had never known a safe haven during his childhood. He never even thought of the _Enterprise_ as 'home'. The word had left his mouth so easily after being impossible to think about before.

Spock starts the car and they leave. The sky is pitch black, but the roads are illuminated with warm light. The sounds of the wind can be heard over the faint hum of the engine. Jim reaches for Spock's free hand, wondering if Spock will allow him to hold it again. He does.

And Jim knows with certainty what he wishes to do.

The car stops in front of the house. The headlights of the car go out and the engine goes silent.

Jim doesn't let go. "Spock, let's get bonded."

Silence falls between them. Spock's other hand grips the steering wheel. His breath trembles and it almost sounds like a laugh. His voice is mixed with betrayal and fascination. "So this is your trick, Jim Kirk?"

"Trick?"

Spock glares at Jim. He looks gorgeous with his tousled hair and very human collared shirt that has been unbuttoned to the bottom of his neck. "Yes, trick. You knew I would not be able to resist the proposal of a bond, and that once we were bonded, you would suffer immensely were I to perish. However, I will never again allow myself to bring pain upon you, which would mean I have no choice but to live."

"I mean - yes, I want you to live, but I really want this. I want you."

Spock's voice is broken. "This is not right, Jim."

"Why not? Vulcans bond from a young age to ensure their survival, don't they? How is this any different? I'm ensuring your survival."

Spock hesitates, but he quickly gains composure. His voice is gentle but firm. "Humans are not subject to that betrothal. They have the capability to forget, to change and find new paths of recovery. The same has the potential to happen to you, and I would only be a burden to you."

"Well, whatever this path is I'm on, I want you there with me." Jim rubs his thumb over the back of Spock's hand, feeling the bones and veins and worn skin. "I'll be honest, I'm afraid of being intimate with anyone ever again. But I could never be scared of you."

Spock doesn't reply. Jim finally lets go to unbuckle his seatbelt and open the car door. "Take your time. Think about it. My proposal won't change."

Spock sighs and exits the car as well. "I only delay the inevitable when you are a factor in the equation, Jim Kirk."

Jim can't help smiling. "I'm glad the commander sent me to you, Spock. I really am."

"I as well," Spock says softly.

They enter the house together. Jim makes sure the temperature has been readjusted to a temperature they can compromise. Jim doesn't ask if he can get into Spock's bed, and Spock doesn't question it when Jim lies down next to him. Jim barely feels the tattoo in his back anymore.

When Jim threads his arms around Spock's waist, Spock rests his hand over Jim's, running his thumb over his palm and digits. "Thank you, Jim."

Jim waits until he is certain Spock has completely fallen asleep. He closes his eyes.

"Thank you, Spock. I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (or reaching the bottom of the page ^^) I appreciate all kudos and any form of comments, especially the ones w emoji spam 💖💖✨✨


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